


Biting words like a wolf howling

by Cassidy_Doris



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, College, F/M, Heartbreak, M/M, Marriage, Mates, Moving Away, Near Death Experiences, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, mate bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassidy_Doris/pseuds/Cassidy_Doris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's spiraling down</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Biting words like a wolf howling</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Hate is spitting out each other’s mouths</i>
  <br/>
  <i>But we're still sleeping like we're lovers</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The one in which Derek and Stiles break up.</p><p>(Based off the song Still by Daughter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biting words like a wolf howling

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this fic for a while now and it's finally finished! I'm so pleased!
> 
> I owe the biggest thanks to the wonderful Amanda! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! Thank you for taking the time and editing this piece! <3<3<3<3  
> (Visit her work, cause she's freaking amazing!)  
> ao3= amazingpages  
> tumblr= miss-emrys.tumblr.com 
> 
> and if you want you can come see me!  
> shewhorunswiththemoon.tumblr.com

***

 

          “Great fucking job Derek.” Stiles slams the door open to the loft and walks in shouting.

          “Uh-oh. Mom and dad are fighting again, peace out kids.” Erica glances over her shoulder, grabs Boyd’s hand, and beelines it for her room. Isaac looks nervously at the door and shoves his hands in his pocket, following suit. Derek’s eyes follows them down the hall, his only lifelines. Derek glances to the floor, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck: his routine to mentally preparing himself for a fight. A fight that seems to be happening almost every night lately. Stiles turns on his heels to face him.

          “I don’t know why you’re mad,” Derek whispers to the floor. He really doesn’t want to have this fight. He doesn’t want to always be fighting, it’s getting exhausting.

          “You do know why though!” Stiles keeps yelling and Derek looks up, eyes flashing red and he huffs out a breath.

          “No, I really fucking don’t, Stiles. It’s the same thing every night. You have literally been finding something to be mad at me for every single night,” Derek says. “So, what is it tonight then, huh? Did I forget to tip the pizza guy and then “slam” the door in his face? Did I forget to pick my towel up off of the floor? Did I leave hair in the sink? I don’t fucking know what I did! I never do!”

          “You were rude,” Stiles says simply.

 

Derek’s shoulders slump. “Aren’t I always? I don’t realize it! Who was I even rude to?”

          “The lady! We were crossing the street and you totally almost made her fall!” Stiles has his hands outstretched in front of him and is waving them around dramatically, trying to make his point.

          “Honestly.” Derek sighs and rubs his face with his hand. He makes his way into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. Derek expects Stiles to follow him and he does.

          “Yeah, just grab a beer, act like it’ll solve all your problems when, hello, werewolf, you can’t even get drunk,” Stiles says across the table in front of them. Derek whips around and slams the bottle onto the table, staring at him.

          “What’s really going on here Stiles?” Derek practically yells. Stiles jumps back, startled, because in all the nights it has been like this Derek has not once raised his voice.

          “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles looks to the floor.

          “Yes you do, because you don’t actually care that I was rude to that lady. I don’t even remember doing that and it’s literally the stupidest thing you could be mad at me for.”

Stiles opens his mouth to protest but Derek carries on.

“But you have been doing that so much lately, picking stupid things to be mad at me for, and there’s a reason. What is going on?”

          “I don’t know! I’m just stressed! You’re being a bigger dick than usual lately! You pick.” Stiles waves his hands in Derek’s direction. Derek grips the beer so tightly he’s surprised it’s not shattering under his hand.

          “I’m being a bigger dick than usual,” Derek says slowly.

          “I think so,” Stiles says, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck and doing practically everything but looking Derek in the eye.

          “You think so?” Derek is still processing this, still going slow, and Stiles’ eyes flicker to him for a brief moment, annoyed. “You know what, no, I honestly haven’t been. You have.”

          “Excuse me?”

Finally, Derek has his full attention. Stiles’ eyes meet his.

          “You heard me. You’re being the biggest dick lately. I haven’t done anything. I haven’t yelled at you, I don’t nitpick at any of your shit, and I don’t deserve this. Whatever you are doing, I don’t deserve it.” Derek finally releases the beer bottle and brings his other hand to crack open the top.

“I know,” Stiles whispers and Derek raises his eyebrows at that.

“What are you trying to do then Stiles? Push me away?” Derek has known, in the back of his mind for a few months now, that this is what Stiles has been trying to do.

“Excuse me?” Stiles says again.

“You’re pushing me away, because you’re leaving in three weeks. You’re leaving to go to NYU and you’re afraid of losing your boyfriend so you’re going to destroy it all in the process.” Derek takes a swig of his beer and it goes down bitterly. He’s pretty sure he just crossed a line.

“Fuck you,” Stiles says and walks around the table and faces Derek. “Fuck you.”

“I would like to, but we haven’t, in _months_. All we’ve done is argue and argue.” Derek can feel all the lines he is crossing and he doesn’t know why he isn’t stopping. He has never been this angry at Stiles, he has never yelled at him. Sure, he says mean shit, but that’s because he always has and that isn’t going to change just because they started dating. But he knows, he knows as soon as the words leave his mouth that bringing up the no sex thing is a dumbass idea.

“Sorry, so sorry that I can’t cater to my werewolf boyfriend’s every goddamn need. You know, I’m trying to graduate and not get killed every goddamn hour of the day. I work my ass off to protect all of you, but you’re right. I’m being totally selfish.” Stiles punches Derek’s chest and turns around but Derek grabs his arm.

“You’re getting ridiculous, because I never once called you selfish and I never once said you should cater to my every need.” Derek turns Stiles around but Stiles only yanks his arm free and crosses it with his other over his chest. Derek sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I brought all of this up, Stiles. It’s just...I miss you and I hate fighting all the time.” Derek’s voice is barely audible. He’s begging here, and he knows Stiles knows that but he doesn’t look like he’s budging, doesn’t smell like it either. The anger is radiating off of him, but Derek can also sense his sadness. It’s being masked very well but he can still smell it.

“I think—I think we’re done here,” Stiles says, after what seems like an eternity of Derek just standing there staring at him.

“What?” Derek’s whole body freezes in place, his heart hammering against his chest. He just misheard Stiles, that’s all.

“I am done here, Derek,” Stiles says and takes a few steps back. “I can’t do this, you’re right. It’s exhausting. We’re fighting all the time and never having sex after; that’s the best part! I just, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Derek can’t really comprehend, he’s fairly sure he didn’t do anything wrong, but maybe he did.

          “Stiles, you can’t mean any of this, it’s just your nerves. You’ve been freaking out about going away to college and what will happen to us, but we’d be fine. I’d be here, waiting for you.” Derek takes a few steps forward and Stiles’ hand lands on his chest, stopping him.

          “That’s just it Derek. I don’t want anyone waiting for me. I don’t want to be tied down and I don’t want to have these responsibilities anymore. I don’t want any of this anymore.” Stiles looks around the loft and Derek knows that Stiles isn’t just talking about Derek but about everything else—their lives, their pack—but Derek can really only think of one thing left to say in reply.

          “You don’t want me anymore?” It’s so stupid, so childish, and he immediately regrets having said it, but it’s too late. He looks to the floor, not wanting to see the look on Stiles face.

          “I just don’t want this,” Stiles says back.

Derek doesn’t even know what that means, but he nods like he understands anyway. He’s not mad at Stiles, he could never be mad at Stiles, he only wants Stiles to be happy. So, when Stiles turns to leave, he lets him. Stiles opens the door to Scott standing there holding Allison’s hand, his face full of fear and embarrassment. Derek looks to his left, where he knows the rest of the pack is standing now, and together they all watch Stiles walk past Scott and down the hallway. They listen for him as he gets into his Jeep and it drives away.

 

          Three weeks later, Stiles is packed up and gone and Derek never said goodbye.

 

***

**Four Years Later:**

          Derek doesn’t know how he ended up here, sitting in his Camaro outside of the airport, waiting for Scott to come back with Stiles in tow. He’s sitting there with his engine idling, ignoring the sign next to him that clearly states “Please No Idling” and also ignoring the many stares he’s getting for parking right in the fire lane. Derek smirks, because he knows the tinted windows and the way he wears his aviators and the way he looks intimidating as hell are the reasons no one actually says anything.

His ears perk up as he hears two familiar voices coming from the other side of the airport. And no, Derek is not going to think about how his stomach flips over and his heart leaps and how, even after four years, Derek can still pick out Stiles’ voice in a crowd. He’s not going to think about it at all. He takes in a deep breath, steps outside of his car, and goes to the back, popping open his trunk as he hears the wheels of luggage come closer.

          “Derek,” Stiles calls to him, and Derek’s hand tightens on the back of his trunk as he stands there, heart hammering. He plasters on a smile and comes around to the side.

          “Stiles,” Derek says, in what he hopes is a happy voice. They hug briefly and Derek doesn’t miss the pounding of Stiles’ heart and certainly not his own. His stomach is in knots and he feels very uncomfortable. He bites back a sting of tears and whips around to head back to his side of the car. When Derek gets in he avoids Scott’s puppy face, the I-know-and-I’m-so-sorry face, and revs the engine. Stiles is sitting in the middle of the backseat and Derek is glad for his aviators because it’s pitiful how many times he glances back to look at him. He examines everything that he can see: the slim, long pale neck still as delicious looking as it used to be; his hair, longer and sticking up and good god what Derek would do to that hair right now, with Stiles above him, hands on his chest and Derek tugging at that hair to make it even messier. Derek shakes his head and reaches for the radio, clicks it on, and starts tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to distract himself from his train of thought.

          “So, what the hell are we going to do for your bachelor party, man?!” Stiles grins and slaps Scott’s shoulder. Scott blushes and huffs out a laugh.

          “Anything dude, just, no strippers,” Scott says, and Stiles looks crestfallen. Derek laughs and then immediately stops and his face turns beet red. It hurts to even laugh because of something funny Stiles has said and Derek knows—has _known_ , he’s not a complete idiot—that he is not over Stiles. He never will be at the rate this is going. Derek sneaks a peek in the mirror and sees Stiles staring at the back of his head with a playful smile on his lips and Derek hates how that look makes his heart speed up and feel something. It feels a lot like hope.

          “Ugh, fine. Be a big ass party pooper. Whatever, we’ll get some wolfsbane then, tons of beer, and all kinds of food, maybe play a game of lacrosse with the pack and then video games. Real man night, ya feel me?” Stiles slaps both of their shoulders this time and gives them a tight squeeze and Derek doesn’t know if he should be focusing on the extra seconds Stiles’ hand stays on Derek’s when it’s already released Scott’s.

          The car stays quiet for awhile longer, and aside from the music playing no one really talks. That’s fine with Derek, he doesn’t actually know what to say after four years of not talking. They’ve had small run-ins on holidays, brief emails, and quick one-worded texts. A month after Stiles left he sent a text that just said:

          **Stiles: I left my purple hoodie hanging on the rack outside the door, give it to Scott and he’ll get it to me.**

That was it. No, please, thank you, I miss you, how are you? He just wanted his damn hoodie and Derek never replied. He threw the jacket at Scott when he walked in for a pack meeting and never said a word. Scott didn’t ask, because he knew, and that’s how it went. Over the course of four years no one ever asked, because they knew, they knew that for Derek, Stiles was it. It took awhile to learn how to deal and be a pack again. They coped, Derek mourned and he knew the pack was silently mourning with him. Stiles didn’t just leave Derek when he took off to NYU, he left his pack. It left them feeling vulnerable, fragile, and _broken_. But no one ever told Stiles that, not even Scott, who was equally as hurt as Derek was.

          “So, how is the pack?” Stiles finally asks and Derek realizes the increase and decrease of Stiles’ heart rate for the past few minutes was most likely because of this question. Stiles worries about asking this question and the answer he’ll get in response. Derek turns to Scott and nods to indicate he should talk, because Derek doesn’t really feel he can find the words, and that’s how the rest of the car ride back to Beacon Hills goes.

          ***

          “So, how is New York?” Isaac interrupts the oppressive, awkward silence of the dinner table. The only thing that has been heard for the past thirty minutes is forks on plates and everyone chewing their pasta.

          “It’s great man, thanks for asking! I’m working on some programs that are looking pretty good, my advisor is pretty impressed. I got this great internship and I just have to take a few extra courses and my degree will be done.” Stiles leans down and takes a bite, slurping up his pasta happily. Derek’s hand mangles the fork he’s holding, trying to avoid the temptation of Stiles and the noises coming from his mouth.

          “Are you going to stay there when you’re done?” Jackson asks quietly. Stiles frowns a bit and then smiles up at him.

          “I haven’t really thought that far ahead actually. My lease on my apartment runs out shortly after I’m done with school but I guess it depends on job offers.” Stiles shrugs and Derek doesn’t understand how Stiles has completely missed the actual question being asked. _Are you going to come home to us?_

          “That’s great, man!” Scott is being over enthusiastic in the response and Derek can almost hear Scott begging everyone to be calm and please, please don’t hurt Stiles’ feelings. Derek just continues to eat, overlooking the whole situation without comment.

 “What have you guys been up to?” Stiles asks slowly. He glances around the table and the terror is evident on his face. Derek growls a low warning and everyone looks to their plates and just continues to eat.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all,” Derek had told them before Stiles showed up for dinner, and everyone agreed they’d leave him alone for now. That worried Derek and Derek feels bad for Stiles because he doesn’t _entirely_ deserve it. Stiles looks around the room with a frown, then looks down at his plate and starts to move his food around before giving up altogether and putting his fork down. He lifts his napkin and wipes his face before standing up and looking around the room with the saddest look Derek has ever seen on his face.

It takes everything in him not to speak up, not to make Stiles sit back down and force the group to apologize and keep making small talk. It takes everything in Derek not to get up and hug him and kiss him, but he doesn’t do any of those things because he can’t. He doesn’t have an obligation to make Stiles feel better anymore, to help mend his broken heart when Derek is still dealing with his own. The one Stiles broke in the first place.

“Dinner was delicious guys! Thanks so much for cooking! But I should get going, I told dad I’d catch the game on TV tonight with him.” Stiles fidgets with the sleeves to his hoodie and looks around the room. Derek knows he’s hoping for protest or for someone to say something like ‘it was nice seeing you’ but none of that happens. Everyone just nods and says ‘see ya’ and Scott’s the only one that walks him to the door.

“Come on, guys. We all know that the Sheriff is on duty tonight. You couldn’t have tried just a bit harder?” Scott begs.

“He’s the one that hurt us in the first place. It’s just karma.” Jackson shrugs and Erica slaps his arm. “What? Look, all I’m saying is he deserves some of the hurt he put us through.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Derek breaks his silence and everyone turns to stare at him in unison, which instantly brings heat to Derek’s face.

“He doesn’t?” Jackson asks slowly. “You’re fucking kidding me, right, Hale?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Allison agrees and Jackson just rolls his eyes.

“I don’t get you, Derek. He broke your heart, continues to break your heart, and you let him.” Jackson growls near the end and Derek knows it’s a protective thing. When Stiles left, the pack became super defensive of Derek. Even though Derek should have been taking care of them, they took care of him, and Derek feels like the ‘shittiest Alpha’ award would have his name shining on the front in gold block lettering.

“I don’t _let_ him. It just happens. I’m still in love with him and he’s not in love with me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t deal with it and move on. You all need to do that. He was your friend once and he deserves your love. He deserves the love you’ve given me. He was a part of our pack once and that doesn’t just stop because he moved away to go to college. He’s still pack.” Derek glares at his wolves, daring them to argue that Stiles isn’t. He really wants them to, because he’ll rip them a new one if they try.

“Do you remember that time we fought the Djinn?” Erica asks apprehensively. Derek is staring at his spaghetti like it’s the only thing in the room.

“Derek? Do you?” Isaac whimpers. Derek’s jaw clicks shut and he nods stiffly.

“Then you remember, you remember that it took _months_ for you to come back to us,” Boyd chimes in. And that hurts a bit more than Derek expected; like Derek, Boyd tends to stay out of things unless they personally involve him.

“And you still haven’t told us what happened,” Lydia reminds him and they all nod. Derek can’t look up at them and meet their eyes, the tears in his eyes will only hurt them.

“Look, I know I’m being a dick, but I’m just saying Stiles has no idea what we’ve been through and he’s trying to act all buddy buddy with us again and I can’t stand that,” Jackson adds on to his argument from earlier.

“But there are better ways to go about that,” Allison says to him. “We should talk to him, _really_ talk to him this time, sit him down and tell him everything. All the things we’ve done, things we’ve _fought_ , what we’ve become. Make him see.”

“I don’t do heart-to-hearts if you haven’t noticed there, cupcake,” Jackson says.

“Shut up, Jackson. Don’t be there then,” Allison adds.

“Derek?” Scott whispers, and all their gazes snap to him again. Derek rises immediately, eyes still not leaving his plate and he begins to pile up the trash around him and head to the kitchen. He hopes he’s giving the impression that no one should follow him and when he stands in front of the sink for an extra minute or two to compose himself he thinks he must’ve because no one follows.

Derek whips around and immediately heads to his room, collecting his iPod off of the bedside table. He plugs his headphones in and walks back out of the room towards the door.

“Clean up after yourselves, I’m going for a run,” he says, back facing the dining room.

“Derek, come back. We need to talk about this. You can’t keep running forever,” Allison calls after him and he ignores her just like he’s ignored everything else for the past four years. It’s become instinct.

 _Watch me_ , he thinks.

***

**_Five years earlier:_ **

          Derek has his arms folded over his chest as he stands on top of the cliff overlooking the town. He rolls his eyes as he hears footsteps approach behind him.

          “You’re a moron,” Stiles says simply and Derek whips around, nostrils flaring.

          “Don’t turn this around on me Stiles. You could’ve _died._ ” Derek is fuming and Stiles raises his hands in surrender.

          “Okay, tough guy. I get it, you’re pissed. But I was trying to _help_. That’s what we do for each other,” Stiles argues. Derek hops down from the rocks and walks closer to him.

          “You’re different,” Derek says and Stiles rolls his eyes.

          “Fuck you, bro, I don’t want special treatment because I’m human. I can handle this.” Stiles huffs and crosses his arms, pouting. Derek should be mad, and he will be, but he also just wants to kiss that pout off of Stiles’ face.

          “I didn’t mean because you’re a human, idiot. I meant because you are _mine_.” Derek laughs. Stiles’ eyes shoot up and widen in surprise.

          “Oh, so possessive,” Stiles jokes and Derek growls and steps closer to him. Derek hears the skip in Stiles’ heartbeat and his breath quickens in excitement. “So, this was our first fight, I think.”

          “Not a fight,” Derek mumbles as his face gets closer to Stiles.

          “Yeah, I think it was. You yelled at me,” Stiles laughs, pressing his forehead against Derek’s.

          “I always yell at you,” Derek argues. Stiles slaps his chest.

          “Your face though, I’ve never actually seen it look that mad at me before. I mean, sure, maybe the rolling of the eyes and the like typical ‘oh, Stiles’ shit you pull. But this, this was—” Stiles trails off and looks up at Derek.

          “I was terrified, Stiles. I don’t ever want to see another wolf have his teeth against your throat. That throat is for my teeth only. Do you know what would happen to me if one day you were just _gone_?” Derek’s voice catches and Stiles brings his hand up to cup Derek’s cheek, stroking it soothingly. “It’s different for us.”

          “I know it is, Derek, but I’m not leaving. So can we get to the make up sex now, or...?” Stiles changes the subject, trying to bring Derek back from his mood. Stiles is so good at bringing Derek back and keeping him grounded.

          “No make up sex to be had, it wasn’t a fight.” Derek shrugs and Stiles crushes his lips into Derek’s. It’s filthy the way Stiles’ tongue sneaks into Derek’s mouth; it takes Derek’s breath away and suddenly Derek is seeing black dots and panting as he pulls away. “Jesus, Stiles.”

          Stiles smiles smugly up at him and winks. Fucking winks, dear god.

          “I hate you,” Derek mumbles against Stiles’ lips as he kisses him again, and Stiles laughs against his mouth.

          “Yes, make up sex!” Stiles says when he next gets the chance.

          Their fights after that never seem to end as nice that one.

***

**_The present:_ **

Derek is sitting on that familiar rock that overlooks his town and he closes his eyes as the breeze blows passed, the leaves rustling across the ground behind him. He wants to hear that voice again, he wants Stiles to come up behind him and playfully call him an idiot, he wants to feel his body against his and his lips brushing against his own. It’s been so easy to avoid the feelings whenever he sees Stiles briefly and it’s so easy to forget all about him when he’s not around, but now Stiles is going to be here for at least a few weeks for the wedding and Derek doesn’t know how to deal.

          Derek coughs suddenly, trying to get his emotions in check. He swipes a hand down his face to brush his tears away and then drags his sleeve across his nose. He’s a mess, he’s pathetic, and he has no idea why his pack still puts up with him. He’s been a horrible Alpha; for the past four years all he’s done is mope around and cry. Why they put up with him and keep him around is beyond him, but he appreciates it nonetheless because he has no idea what he’d do without them.

          Derek doesn’t know how long he sits there, but he knows with time they’ll come for him. He decides to wait, since he really doesn’t want to go back and face all of them; sometimes they’re decent enough to only send a person or two to sit with him. As if on cue, he can hear small footsteps come up behind him. Allison’s far too good at being a hunter; it’s scary because he almost wouldn’t have heard her coming if he wasn’t already waiting for the sound.

          “They sent you. Smart move,” Derek says, back still facing her. She laughs a bit and comes to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around his and resting her head on his shoulder.

          “Remember when we hated each other?” Allison asks. Derek laughs and nods.

          “Like it was yesterday,” he says.

          “It _was_ yesterday,” she jokes.

          “Hey now, I was _not_ the one that ate all the Nutella.” Derek hits her foot with his and she slaps his knee with her hand. She looks up and rests her chin on his shoulder, and Derek braces for what she’s about to say.

          “All I’m saying, Derek, is people change all the time. And I know that it’s hard to deal with and accept but maybe he’s changing again, and maybe he’ll come back to us.” Allison sounds hopeful and Derek grunts. He doesn’t want to hurt her, he really doesn’t, but he gave up hope around the same time he decided he also should give up feeling anything at all.

          “I really appreciate what you’re doing, Allison, and I am so glad _we_ changed and were able to forgive and become friends because I don’t know what I’d do without you. You literally keep me sane with my pack of loons running around.”

She laughs and nods like they’re in total agreement on that one, because she knows what he means. They’ve been a great duo over the years, working together to keep the pack in line. Between her expert hunting skills and his position as Alpha, they work quite well together.

“But,” Derek continues, “I just don’t think that’s going to happen. And I’m okay with that, really, I’m fine. I have you guys and that’s all I really need.”

          “Can I say something without you getting mad at me?” Allison asks and Derek is one hundred percent sure he’ll regret giving her the nod to go ahead.

“I think you should try dating again,” she says.

          If Derek were drinking anything right now he sure as hell would be spitting it out in surprise. Instead, he gives her this wide eyed, fearful look and Allison tries to calm him down.

          “Easy there, just hear me out. It’s not as scary as you think,” she tries to argue. “Online dating, blind dates and stuff, they’re good, they’re not that bad! A lot of people find love this way, Derek, it’s becoming the norm.”

Derek shakes his head and looks away. “I’m not the norm, so no, there’s no way in hell I’m trying this,” he says and he can see her eyes roll as her shoulders slump.

          “Lydia and I were thinking...”

Derek’s head snaps to attention.

          “Lydia and you were thinking?” he starts off slowly, because the two of them thinking means the two of them going ahead and doing whatever the hell they feel like doing without asking. “Allison, if you tell me right now you made me an online profile behind my back, I swear to god...”

          “Well, you have _quite_ the amount of interest—”

          Derek doesn’t bother listening to the rest of what she has to say, standing and turning away.

Derek, please!” Allison gets up and follows after him, but Derek has heard enough. “You can’t wait for him forever. You said it yourself not even ten seconds ago.”

          “And you were the one who said he might come back to us,” Derek shoots back, already walking away.

          “I know, I know I did. But, Derek, we want you to be happy. You _deserve_ to be happy!” Allison calls after him.

          “I’ll be happier when you all decide to butt out of my life!” Derek hollers over his shoulder and takes off. He doesn’t come back for three days.

***

**_Five years earlier:_ **

           “Derek, it’s a simple web page! It’s not rocket science,” Stiles mumbles, forcefully pushing the rolling chair Derek is sitting in away from the desk, slamming him unceremoniously into wall. Derek grunts and Stiles just rolls his eyes and continues to tap away on the keyboard.

          “Why is it so important to you that I have a Facebook page? And don’t even get me started on what the fuck a Twitter is. You post shit on that thing for me yourself, so what’s the point of even having it?” Derek crosses his arms and stares at them, not caring that he’s pouting.

          “You need to stay in touch with people, Derek. Stop being a hermit. When I leave for college we’re gonna need to have all sorts of access to each other. Just wait ‘til I teach you about Skype,” Stiles says gleefully.

Derek groans in protest.

          “I don’t want to learn anymore damn things about how that hunk of junk works. I hate using that thing, Stiles, you know that. Why can’t we just sext?” Derek hopes that will get Stiles’ attention, and it kind of does. Stiles raises an eyebrow and shoots Derek a scandalized look.

          “Well, I’ll be, Derek Hale trying to seduce little ole me into sexting! Whatever would my pa do if he heard of such a thing?” Stiles rests the back of his hand on his forehead and exaggerates a faint. Derek honestly has no idea what he sees in him.

          “You’re the biggest idiot,” Derek says and Stiles laughs.

Stiles messes around on the computer a bit longer and, after god knows how long, Derek can’t take it anymore and throws himself onto Stiles’ bed for a nap. At some point, Stiles finishes what he’s doing and joins Derek on the bed.

          “Wakey, wakey, sleepy head.” Stiles presses a kiss to his forehead and Derek hums in happiness. If only he could be woken up like this every morning; he hopes that maybe someday he will be.

          “Is it over?” Derek mumbles and Stiles slaps him.

          “Good god, Derek. You make such a big deal out of everything,” Stiles huffs and Derek stares at him wounded and surprised. Stiles’ tone isn’t playful, and Derek isn’t sure what has happened in the past hour to make Stiles so serious.

          “Um, I’m sorry?” Derek offers hesitantly, flipping onto his back to look up at Stiles.

          “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for! You’re just saying it to humor me. Jesus, Derek, can’t you ever stick up for yourself?” Stiles gets off of the bed and starts to pace the floor. Now Derek is utterly confused.

          “I don’t know what’s happening,” Derek admits and Stiles throws his hands up into the air and laughs.

          “Of course you don’t. You _never_ do. God, Derek. You know, you’re really something. You can’t ever just stand up to me, you always weasel your way out of fights, and you never get mad! It’s pathetic.”

Derek stares down at his hands and fidgets with them. He doesn’t actually know what he’s supposed to be doing right now.

“Are you just going to sit there and say nothing?”

          Derek stands up from the bed and makes his way to the door. “No, I think I’ll just leave and say nothing, because either way I won’t win. You’ll still get the last fucking word and _still_ be pissed at me,” Derek says and slams the door in Stiles’ face on his way out. He walks out to his car and peels out of the driveway, fuming. He honestly has no idea what the fuck just happened back there but when he gets home it only takes him two clicks on his Facebook page to see the problem.

          **Derek Hale is now in a relationship with Stiles Stilinski.**

**_Summer Saunders_ ** **: _The Stilinski kid? Really, Hale? You’re so much hotter._**

 

Derek calls up Allison and demands she to tell him how to delete his Facebook page immediately.

          “That’s really not a good idea, Derek; Stiles will be pissed” Allison tries to reason with him but Derek yells at her through the phone.

          “He’s pissed at me because of a comment, made by a girl I went to high school with and haven’t talked to in _years_ , posted on this fucking site. I do not need this shit, Allison, he can be pissed at me for any other reason but this.”

          “Fine, if you are ready for that battle,” Allison says and instructs him on how to deactivate his page. When he finally manages it thirty minutes later, it only takes two minutes for two texts and a missed phone call from Stiles to show up. The missed phone call was intentional. Derek finally texts back an hour later.

          **Derek: You want me to get angry, Stiles? You haven’t even seen me get angry. You want to be pissed at me because of a comment someone said about you on Facebook and then get mad because I deleted it? Fine. I can easily get pissed about all the comments Danny says to me behind my back. Don’t think I don’t know about them. This is bullshit and you know it. Don’t talk to me for a few hours.**

And if Derek had to pinpoint a moment when things started going downhill, it might’ve been that one. Fucking Facebook. Derek hated the Internet. That’s why he was pissed at Allison and Lydia. That’s why he stayed away for three days. That’s why, when he entered the house three days later, he went straight for his laptop and snapped it in half in front of the pack.

***

          Derek’s apartment has turned into a clothing store, a dressing room, and a hotel all in one.  It’s been like this for three weeks and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Not only is pack has been living with him, but Allison and Lydia have moved their wedding planning here. Anything needed for the goddamn planning—the dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the tuxedos, the cake, the invites, the table arrangements—has been living in Derek’s home. He wakes up to the smell of seven people’s morning breath and an overwhelming perfume of over two dozen different kinds of flowers.

          “I just can’t choose. I think roses are too much, but these sunflowers don’t fit the theme.” Lydia hums to herself, staring at all the different flower arrangements before her, finger pressed to her lip, a clipboard in her other hand. Derek wonders whose wedding this actually is. He’ll be glad when this is all over with, so he can kick people out and get back to his normal smells of coffee, bacon, and Old Spice.

          “What is this shit?” Derek asks as he opens his door and is blocked by boxes stacked on top of each other.

          “Those are the custom wine glasses, fairy lights, sparklers, chalkboards...you know, just the usual stuff.” Lydia shrugs, snapping her fingers and calling Scott and Jackson to attention only to wave her hand at the boxes. “Let’s go, boys.”

          They both groan and roll their eyes, but it only takes them three seconds to pick up all of the boxes and move them away from the door so Derek can get inside with his many bags of groceries.

          “There’s a bunch more downstairs,” Derek says over his shoulder as he heads to the kitchen. He can hear the others groan as he places the bags down on the kitchen counter. “You fuckers eat me out of house and home, the least you can do is help bring in the shit you eat.”

          He doesn’t hear anymore protests, just a few people getting up from the couches, pausing their video game, and heading down the stairs. Derek nods approvingly and smiles. He starts putting the groceries away and turns to put the milk in the fridge when he feels a presence at the doorway.

          “Still that take-charge Alpha you always were, huh?” Stiles laughs.

Derek freezes with his arm stretched halfway into the fridge. He didn’t even smell Stiles; how did he miss him being here? Probably all of the fucking flowers all over the place. Fucking Lydia. He is going to have to talk to her. He really doesn’t like surprises, and Stiles being here when Derek gets home is certainly one of them. He tries to overlook the awkward spike of panic he just experienced and puts away the milk as casually as possible. He shrugs his shoulders as he turns around to grab a few more things from the bags.

          “I don’t know. They still put up with my shit,” Derek jokes and he’s happy when Stiles laughs in return.

          “And we love you every day!” Allison sings as she brings in a few bags and leans in to kiss his cheek.

          “You’re just sucking up to me because of the fucking disaster that is my house,” Derek says to her and she nods and bites into an apple she stole from one of her grocery bags. “And you eat my food.”

          “You love me so much, Derek! And you will be rewarded with a week off from me and Scott when the wedding’s over!” Allison reminds him.

Derek clutches his heart and smiles wide. “Oh my god, how could I forget?! What a glorious day it will be!” Derek jokes and it earns him a playful slap on his arm from her.

          “You’ll miss us every second.” Allison ruffles his hair and Derek grunts in annoyance as he grabs a few cans and turns to put them in the cupboard.

          “Hardly,” he mumbles. Allison scoffs like she doesn’t believe him, and she might be right. Sure, he leaves sometimes for a few days to have some time alone, they all do, but he’s never had any of them in a different place entirely. Except Stiles, of course, and they all know how that turned out. So Derek panics a little whenever he starts to think about them leaving. Allison pats his shoulder soothingly as if she can sense what he’s thinking, and he is so damn grateful for her. He turns around to find Stiles staring at the two of them.

          “What?” Derek asks self consciously.

          “Nothing. I just...you two seem to have gotten awfully close. I don’t remember you being this close before,” Stiles comments.

Derek shrugs. Allison takes another bite of her apple.

          “A lot has changed Stiles,” Allison finally says, and she turns to leave the room. Derek doesn’t miss the dismissive tone in her voice or the hint of anger. A smile plays at his lips.

          “I guess so,” Stiles whispers and Derek can hear the sadness in it. He should be thinking, _good, serves you right_ , but instead it only hurts him to know Stiles is hurting. Derek has to keep reminding himself that this isn’t his fault, though. Stiles did this to himself. Derek can only call off the dogs for so long before they decide to snap back and bare their teeth. Or, in this case, bare the anger they’ve been holding back for the past four years.

“Do you need any help?” Stiles asks.

          Derek looks up and stares at Stiles, who looks completely lost in a house that used to be his, in a pack that used to be his. It’s evident that Stiles feels like he doesn’t belong and it’s pretty clear by the way the pack is acting towards him that they’re confirming this feeling of rejection.

          “I’m okay, Stiles, thanks. Are you staying for dinner tonight?” Derek can’t help it, Stiles was right, Derek can never be mad at him. And even though all the years away and things Stiles did gives Derek every right to be pissed, he just can’t. He loves him too much.

          “If you want me to, sure.” Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and leans against the door frame, not sure what he should be doing with his body. Derek has ideas but he shakes his head, trying to forget that he even let himself think it.

          “Of course I do, Stiles.” Derek has no idea what possesses him to say it and he can hear the low growls of his pack from the room next to him. He rolls his eyes at the sound.

          “Thanks, Derek.”

Derek knows Stiles is not thanking him for inviting him to dinner, but thanking him for not being weird about everything, for not shunning him or making him feel like a bigger asshole than he already is. Derek shrugs like it’s no big thing, turning around to finish putting away everything and get dinner started.

***

          “It’s not that big of a deal, Scott,” Derek hears Stiles whisper to Scott in the kitchen. “Look, just please don’t say anything.”

          “Well, they’re all gonna find out!” Scott is trying hard not to yell and Derek’s not really sure why they aren’t just talking normally; the house can hear them anyway. Derek comes around the corner and the conversation ceases immediately. Stiles grins up at him and Scott looks somber.

          “What’s not a big deal?” Derek asks. Stiles’ face falters and Scott looks even unhappier than before.

          “The plus one Stiles is bringing to the wedding,” Jackson says nonchalantly.

          “ _Bro_ ,” Stiles groans, and Derek’s heart feels like it’s dropping through the floor.

          “I’m not your bro, I’m _his_ ,” Jackson gestures behind him towards Derek and pulls out the Reeses Puff cereal from the cupboard. He pours himself a bowl and walks back out of the kitchen like nothing even happened. Stiles looks at Derek with wide eyes and an apology on his lips but Derek just shrugs and shakes his head.

          “Thanks for choosing the cereal I bought for myself, ya dick!” Derek yells over his shoulder.

          “Pack house, pack food, ya asshole!” Jackson shouts back.

          “ _My_ house, _my_ money! Start chipping in next time!” Derek hollers. Scott rolls his eyes and Derek does a very good job of not looking at Stiles the entire time, but he can feel Stiles’ gaze burning into the back of his neck.

          “Hey, um, Derek?” Stiles asks softly, and Derek turns around with a bowl of cereal for himself. He takes a bite and shakes his head again.

          “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” Derek says, because he really doesn’t want to hear ‘I’m sorry’ or anything like sympathy. It’s bad enough he doesn’t have a date to bring to the wedding, to show he’s gotten over their relationship within the last four years. He also _really_ doesn’t want to hear about this new person in Stiles’ life. He just doesn’t want to care.

          “Okay,” Stiles says simply and Scott scratches the back of his head and coughs in discomfort.

          “Well, we should go over your speeches, for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Allison wants to make sure you actually know what you’re going to say and not just winging it,” Scott says trying to diffuse the tension.

          “ _Allison_ wants to make sure? Or _Lydia?_ ” Stiles asks.

Derek laughs because he’s not the only one who has noticed Lydia’s complete takeover of this wedding.

          “Honestly, not much of a difference.” Scott shrugs, then pauses and glances around. “Please, god, don’t tell Allison I said that.”

          Stiles laughs and claps Scott’s shoulder and nods.

          “Scouts honor,” Stiles promises and nods in Derek’s direction as Derek smiles and agrees to do the same. Derek laughs and heads out into the living room, plopping himself next to Jackson. He purposefully gets close enough that he knocks Jackson off balance a bit and his cereal sloshes around.

          “Dude. What was that for?” Jackson growls. Derek shoots him a look and raises his eyebrows.

          “You know what that was for,” Derek whispers.

          “What? I don’t owe him anything, not my friendship or my loyalty. You all welcome him back with open arms, but I won’t. He’s a dick.”

Jackson shrugs and Derek gives up. He knows he can’t change Jackson’s mind and he’ll admit he feels a surge a pride when Jackson declares his loyalty.

          “But do _you_ have to be a dick to him all the time?” Derek asks.

          “Yeah, I kinda do. Look, I know you’re still in love with him but I’m not gonna be nice to him. He didn’t just leave you, he left _us_ , and I don’t know why everyone’s so willing to forget that bit,” Jackson says.

These is one of the few moments when Derek gets let in to know how Jackson really feels about the pack. He acts like an ass, but Derek knows that he’d lay down his life for everyone in this pack the way they would for him. Derek guesses something just changes in a person when they become pack. Not to mention when they have near-death—or in Jackson’s case, death and come back to life—experiences. Derek’s certainly changed from the person he used to be, an Alpha just wanting a pack for power to an Alpha who is just glad he has a pack he can call family. He has a family again and it’s what has helped him get through the past four years.

          Jackson looks over at him and scoffs as he shoves his elbow into Derek’s ribcage. “Dude, stop with the mushy shit. I’m just saying, that’s all.”

Derek must’ve made a face, must’ve shown somehow that he appreciates Jackson more than they both care to admit. Derek shrugs and slurps his milk from his bowl as Jackson does the same and that’s how they tell each other that they love each other. Derek gets up and brushes the milk of his lip with the back of his hand, turning to find Stiles and Scott in the doorway. Stiles is staring between Jackson and Derek with a confused look on his face.

          “We’re heading out now, gonna grab Allison and Lydia and head over to the cakes place to make the final decision,” Scott says.

Scott looks as if he knows what’s going on, because he’s probably eavesdropped on the entire conversation. Derek nods with a yawn, itching the back of his neck with his hand. He doesn’t miss the way Stiles’ eyes drop down to the exposed patch of Derek’s stomach. It leaves a warm pool of satisfaction in his belly and Derek smiles smugly.

          “Uh, yeah, what Scott said,” Stiles says, tripping over his words. “See ya, guys.”

          Derek hears the door close as he’s placing his empty bowl in the sink and listens in for any last minute conversations.

          “Since when are Derek and Jackson so close?” Derek hears Stiles ask Scott.

          “Dunno. Since forever, I guess,” Scott answers simply. Derek rolls his eyes.

          “Not forever, they weren’t like that when I was—” Stiles’ heart rate picks up.

          “Since you were here. But you left, and things changed.”

The anger in Scott’s voice is clear and Derek grimaces. He really does hate how even Scott can get defensive and angry at Stiles. No one seems willing to let go of the fact that he decided to take off and go to school in New York.

          “I get it,” Stiles whispers.

          “No, Stiles, I really don’t think you do. But I don’t want to have that conversation right now. Let’s just go eat cake,” Scott says.

          All Derek hears next is the rattle of Stiles’ Jeep coming to life and then the sound of them driving away.

***

          **_Five years before:_**

That goddamn Jeep was going to be the death of them all. Derek pulls up on the side of the road where Stiles is leaning against his driver’s side door, arms crossed and anger written all over his face. Derek would be lying if he didn’t stall an extra few minutes to take a few deep breaths before getting out of his car.

“Took you long enough,” Stiles huffs. Derek’s nostrils flare in annoyance.

“This is the third time in a week, Stiles,” Derek notes.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Stiles opens the door and pops the hood for him.

“Can we talk about getting you a new car?” Derek asks, even though he knows the answer. They’ve been having this argument for months.

“No,” Stiles says flatly.

Derek rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. It’s not like you’ll have any use for it in a few months, right?” Derek offers, and Stiles just shrugs and ducks his head under the hood to look around. For what, Derek isn’t sure, since Stiles doesn’t know anything about cars. Derek tinkers around with a few things, checks the oil, and then something dawns on him and he sits up and walks around to the front of the Jeep.

“Stiles...” Derek says slowly.

“What?” Stiles lifts an eyebrow at Derek through the windshield as Derek sits in the driver’s seat.

“You’re out of gas,” Derek answers.

“What? No! That’s not possible, it said half a tank!” Stiles yells.

“The gas gauge is broken, you’ve been running on fumes. I can smell it,” Derek says.

“Well, that’s just fucking awesome. This is ridiculous.” Stiles throws his hands up in the air and kicks his tire. Derek watches him and rolls his eyes.

“This wouldn’t be a problem if we could just talk—”

“You’re not buying me a new car Derek!” Stiles yells and throws his hands up in the air again. Derek gets out and slams the Jeep door, then starts walking to his car.

“Do you need a ride to the gas station or not?” Derek asks grumpily.

“Good god, Derek! Stop acting like a child! I just don’t want you to buy me something this huge! Is that too hard to understand? It’s a _car_ , Derek. You can’t just buy boyfriends cars. A fiancé maybe, a husband—” Stiles says and then stops cold when Derek glances up at him. “Oh.”

          “No, no _oh_. Drop it.” Derek’s face is burning red and Stiles walks up to him and suddenly he has tears in his eyes.

          “Derek, I think we should—” Derek backs up and spins on his heels, because suddenly he knows exactly what Stiles is going to say and he’s not about to let him say it.

          “Get in or stay,” Derek says simply. Stiles follows him but the car ride is silent.

***

          “Do you remember that time we fought off that whole pack of were-rabbits?!” Stiles is holding his stomach and laughing hysterically into his glass of wine. The table is laughing with him and Derek can’t help but crack a smile. Even Jackson is smiling. “I mean, seriously. Were-rabbits. What the actual fuck?”

          “I refuse to believe we fought were-rabbits. They were not rabbits. Either we were on drugs or they’d slipped into nuclear sewage at some point,” Scott says. He makes a disgusted face and sticks out his tongue, shivering at the memory. Allison pats his arm sympathetically and giggles. There’s a nice rosy flush on her cheeks, Derek notes, and as he looks around the room he sees that most of the other humans have a similar look about them. Even Erica, who helps herself to Derek’s stash of wolfsbane whenever she feels in the mood, looks happy.

          “Can you pass the bread?” Isaac asks. Jackson rolls his eyes and hands him the basket.

          “I can see Isaac still eats all the bread he can, yeah?” Stiles laughs, and Jackson’s face turns stony.

          “Like you would know,” Jackson comments, and just like that their happy bubble is broken.

          “I’m sorry?” Stiles sputters, setting down his wine and staring wide-eyed at Jackson.

          “You actually wouldn’t know if Isaac still eats all the bread because, oh, I don’t know, you haven’t been here for the past _four years_.” Jackson is visibly starting to shake and Derek lets out a soft, low, warning growl that gets Jackson’s head to snap to attention. Still, he adds, “If someone doesn’t tell him, I will.”

          “Tell me what?” Stiles whispers.

Derek’s growl grows louder. “Enough,” he says.

Jackson’s face shifts a bit and then he’s back to normal, cracking his neck and sending Derek a cold, hard stare.

          “Tell me what?” Stiles repeats and Jackson gives Derek a slight smirk as he turns to face Stiles.

          “What our lives have been like the past four years,” Jackson says.

Derek snaps. He slaps the table hard, shattering the three wine glasses around him. The plates bounce up in the air and come back down, cracking in half. They all startle and stare at Derek.

          “Goddamn it, I said _enough_ , Jackson,” Derek bites out.

Jackson’s eyes flash blue.

“No, I’m sorry, this isn’t something your Alpha voice can control,” Jackson fires back, and he turns to Stiles. “We have fought nearly every supernatural creature imaginable, and they were ten times more dangerous that any goddamn were-rabbit, let me tell you. We have nearly _died_ a dozen times. Lydia ended up in the hospital last year, did you know that? For a week; she was nearly killed by a Wendigo. Where were you?”

          Stiles’ mouth drops open and he looks around the table. Everyone has their eyes averted, playing with their food or fiddling with the broken wine glasses. Allison coughs nervously and Scott’s leg is shaking his part of the table. Scott looks between the two of them and whines. He turns to Derek with a pleading look. Derek shrugs sympathetically.

          “Jackson,” Lydia whispers quietly, placing her hand over his. He shakes it off and looks at her furiously.

          “No, Lyds. He says he used to love you, that he was your best friend. So where in the fuck was he when you were dying?!” Jackson shouts.

          “I didn’t...no one told me, I didn’t know.” Stiles stumbles over his words, trying to find something to say. Derek’s heart sinks when he hears the tremble in Stiles’ voice.

          “Sorry, we didn’t have fucking time to call you while everyone was a bleeding, dying mess. I’ll make sure we phone you next time we’re rushing Scott to Deaton’s with his entrails falling out of his stomach. Jesus, Stiles, you never called, not _once_. The first year, fine, you tried, but then the Skype calls, texts...they just stopped coming.”

Jackson’s voice lowers to a near sob, and it sounds so sad and heartbroken that Lydia reaches for his hand again. This time doesn’t get rejected. Everyone looks up now to stare at Jackson and Stiles. Stiles looks around at all of them, his eyes landing on Derek last.

          “I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbles. “There is no excuse, I just, I couldn’t be apart of this anymore.”

          “A part of this family?” Isaac asks, and his face looks broken.

          “No! No, a part of this _world_! I didn’t fit in. I sucked at everything, I kept almost dying, and then it just felt like I wasn’t needed anymore.” Stiles shrugs.

          “Stop projecting. You know that isn’t at all the truth. We needed you Stiles. We needed you everyday,” Scott chimes in. Stiles looks up with tears in his eyes this time. He blinks rapidly and tries looking up to the ceiling to fight them back.

“I needed you man,” Scott says. “We’re brothers.”

          “Derek almost died, you know,” Jackson adds.

Derek’s hand, which had been holding the edge of the table, splinters the wood in anger. “Jackson,” Derek tries to snap again, and Jackson just keeps on rolling his eyes.

          “That’s enough,” Lydia says.

Derek is grateful, but the damage is done. Stiles’ gaze clears up, tears gone, and he’s staring right at Derek.

          “Of course he did,” Stiles voice is venomous, and it stings Derek as if he’s been bitten.

          “Stiles,” Derek warns, but Stiles is already standing up and glaring at him.

          “Because he can never, _ever_ just fight. No, he has to protect everyone, sacrifice himself for everyone. Haven’t you noticed? How he’s so willing to die?” Stiles yells and Derek stands up, too.

          “That’s my job, Stiles! I’m the Alpha, and these people are my responsibility,” Derek fires back.

Stiles just crosses his arms.

          “They can take care of themselves; they always could! You’re the one who’s so willing to jump in the line of fire for them. No one ever asks you to,” Stiles argues.

          “No one has to! I love them and I know they’d do the same for me. I’d die for them, just like I’d die for you!” The words are out before Derek can bite them back or even think about what he is saying. He knows that’s not what Stiles wants to hear.

          “I never wanted you to die for me!” Stiles’ voice cracks, whether from anger or sadness Derek can’t tell, but he thinks it’s maybe a little of both. “I wanted you to live for me!”

          Derek takes a step back, stunned. He’s not sure what’s going on.

          “Jesus, Derek. I just wanted you, for once, to choose to be with me, here, in the present, instead of always worrying about me dying or protecting me or wanting to _die_ for me. You never thought you were good enough for me, you never thought you could just enjoy me. You always felt the need to prove something, to impress me, but I already loved you, you idiot! I never needed anything to be proven. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

          After such an honest revelation, Derek looks around the room, feeling uncomfortable when he see that everyone, even Jackson, has tears in their eyes. They are all trying very hard not to look at Derek. Derek nods, picks up the broken pieces of his plate, and walks into the kitchen. He slams the pieces into the sink and grips the edge of the counter, biting down on his lip in an attempt to stop the tears. He hears footsteps, and he knows without looking that Stiles is there. He can smell his cologne and the gel he uses in his hair—none of that has changed.

          “Der,” Stiles attempts.

Derek throws his hand up in the air to silence him, and for once Stiles takes the cue and doesn’t speak. Derek turns on his heels and heads for the door, grabbing his keys and jacket on the way out. No one follows him, no one yells after him, and Derek prefers it that way.

          He stays away for the rest of the night.

***

**_The day:_ **

          “Derek, behind you!” Scott shouts, as an invisible thing knocks him to the ground.

Scott howls as it bites into him. Derek stumbles while trying to reach him, but he’s knocked to the ground too. Something takes a bite out of his leg and his head arches back as he yells. He kicks and squirms and he hears the smallest whimper as he kicks something. It felt like a muzzle, but the beast is back at him before he can process it.

          Derek looks around desperately. Lydia and Stiles are spray painting symbols into the dirt and tossing mountain ash into a circle, while Allison is perched on a tree branch aiming her bow at anything that is trying to tackle get to them. Scott, Isaac, and Boyd are fighting with him and Jackson—oh, dear god, where is Jackson? Just as Derek thinks it, Jackson comes tearing out of nowhere, blood gushing from his arm as he charges head-first into the beast holding Derek down.

          “Jackson!” Derek growls, but it’s too late, Jackson is already tearing into it while it fights back.

There are painful howls echoing all over the woods and Derek’s face falls when he hears a tree branch crack. He whips around, running full speed towards the tree. Allison screams as she falls; Derek catches her and he can hear Scott’s whimper of terror from behind him. He sets her down and she whispers her thanks as she runs back into the throng of fighting bodies and invisible monsters. Derek has only a second to look around and decide who he’s going after next when his vision notices tree branches cracking at an unusually fast rate. Almost as if there’s something there, running towards someone, and that someone is Stiles.

Stiles’ back is turned and he has no idea what’s coming for him. Derek lets out a terrifying growl that shakes the ground and startles everyone around him. Stiles looks up suddenly, feeling the vibration, his eyes wide as he whips around. Derek lunges towards the invisible creature, but he’s caught mid-air by another invisible dog. He’s guessing they are dogs—he can’t see them, but he _can_ smell them. They smell like dogs, they feel like dogs.

This dog on top of Derek is pinning him down with large paws on his chest, and he’s whimpering and fighting it, afraid to look over at Stiles. He didn’t reach him in time, and is afraid of what that means. Derek howls as he feels teeth tear into his flesh, right above his heart. He hears a distant cry, and his blood pumps harder at the realization that that cry is Stiles’. His head whips around and he finds Stiles standing on the edge of the woods next to Allison. Scott whines and Jackson’s eyes are a bright blue, but Isaac is holding him back from something.

Derek sniffs the air and realizes why. Salt and mountain ash surround him. He’s also well aware of the demon trap that is spray painted on a canvas and dug into the ground a few inches below him. There’s no way out. Either they risk letting all these hellhounds go, or he dies. His death seems better than an entire town of people’s. Derek grunts and digs his claws deep into the sides of the hellhound above him. It cries out, and Derek releases his grip only to dive back in and rip into the blackened heart that resides inside the beast's chest. The dog falls on top of Derek, limp, and he pushes it off of him to stand. He’s in the middle of the trap and he can feel the rest of the dogs circling around him.

          “Derek,” Stiles says slowly.

Derek’s breath catches and he’s afraid to look. But his eyes betray his thoughts and he searches out Stiles before he can stop himself. Tears are rushing down Stiles’ cheeks and Scott is gripping onto his arm, holding him back.

          “Do it, Stiles.” Derek nods and Stiles lets out a sob, dropping his head to the ground. Derek’s heart pulls in his direction, but he stands his ground. He can’t make a move or he knows these dogs will be on him and kill him in an instant.

          “I can take them, now that they’re trapped,” Allison offers, raising her bow.

          “And they’ll do everything to take me with them regardless,” Derek says back. Allison lowers her bow, and her face falls with the motion.

          “We can’t leave you in there, you’ll—” Jackson stops mid-sentence.

          “I’ll die,” Derek finishes for him. “I’m sorry.”

          “Sorry? Derek, stop.” Isaac steps forward and this time Jackson is there to stop him.

          “Derek, please,” Erica whines and he looks and meets the eyes of each member of his pack. He stares at them for a moment then nods.

          “This is a sacrifice I’m willing to make to protect all of you, to protect this town.” Derek looks back at Stiles, whose face has gone stone cold.

          “Stiles,” Derek nods and Stiles kneels and places his hand to the ash.

Derek can hear him mumble a few words before he plucks a match from his pocket, striking it. He brings it toward the circle, which ignites and spreads the fire rapidly. Derek loses sight of his pack almost instantly as flames shoot up all around him. He can hear the whines and cries of the dogs around him and, despite the fact that he’s about to die with them, he can’t help but smile a little. At least he’s taking them down, too.

          “ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas_ ,” he hears Stiles begin chanting before his world goes black.

          He wakes up a while later in the middle of the forest and wonders if this is what death feels like. He can smell burnt dirt, leaves and trees all around him. He groans as his hand falls on his chest and he rubs the spot where the dog’s teeth had torn into him before, but despite the pain he feels there it seems to be healed over.

          “Derek!”

He hears a girl’s watery laugh. Her voice is quiet at first, shocked and relieved, but she shouts a bit louder the next time. “Guys! Derek!” He soon hears a stampede of footsteps and tries to sit up, but is abruptly pushed back down to the ground.

          “Don’t be stupid, Der. Stay down,” he hears the girl say.

Cool metal presses against his lips and a few drops of water hit his tongue. He sighs as he lifts his head and takes deep sips from the container. He rests back again afterwards and slowly opens his eyes. Allison is staring down at him with watery eyes and a smile on her face. She tucks her hair behind her ear and Derek sees her hand shaking. He reaches out to take it.

          “Allison?” Derek asks and Allison nods for him to continue. “Since when do you call me _Der_?”

          She laughs and playfully slaps his shoulder. Almost immediately, she rubs her hand over where she hit him.

          “I’m okay. I’m fine,” Derek says, trying to sit up again. Allison just pushes him back down.

          “You can’t get up too fast. We need Deaton to check on you,” Allison whispers.

Derek hears something in her voice, in her heartbeat, that doesn’t quite sound right. There is worry there, fear.

          “Allison, how long have I been out?” This time, Derek sits up despite her protests and realizes he’s not in the woods at all. He’s lying in his bed at home. His heart begins to pound and he doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Allison puts a hand on him.

          “Derek, please, stay calm. Deaton said you might start to get agitated and anxious and we need to keep you calm.”

Allison sounds scared and Derek’s head whips around as he hears the click of the door. Scott slowly enters the room, but Derek can tell he’s on guard because of Allison. Derek growls in annoyance and Scott shoots Allison a look.

          “I’ve got this Scott, I’m fine,” Allison says authoritatively. Scott grumbles something Derek can’t make out, but Allison either doesn’t hear it either or she just refuses to listen. She shoots Scott a look and he leaves.

          “Allison, how long have I been out?” Derek asks slowly.

Allison looks down at her hands and bites her lip.

“Alli.”

          “Weeks,” she sobs. “Three weeks, to be exact. And you haven’t been _out_ , Derek. You’ve been dead.”

          “How is that possible? Why am I here? Where did I go?” Derek gets up and starts pacing the floor, his muscles weak from disuse. He scrubs at his face, and the beard on his face scratches into his skin hard enough that his hand feels raw.

          “Derek, please, calm down,” Allison says. She gets up and is startled when Derek stops dead in his tracks and whips around to face her.

          “Stiles.” Suddenly, Derek is desperate and near tears. “Where is Stiles?”

          “I’m right here.”

Stiles walks into the room, Deaton close behind him, and Stiles stares at him. He opens his arms and Derek runs into them.

          “Stiles,” Derek breaths.

          “Der,” Stiles replies, and Derek feels more relief than he’s ever felt in his life.

          Stiles lets go far sooner than Derek would like but he hopes it’s only because Deaton is in the room. They have questions to answer, but hopefully they can get some much-needed alone time together later.

          “What the hell happened, Deaton?” Derek asks immediately.

Stiles and Allison shuffle around and take a seat on the bed before the the rest of the pack walk in and try to find places to sit. Jackson, being the clever and annoying little shit he is, brings in the La-Z-Boy from the living room. Isaac walks over and immediately hugs Derek before he finding a seat, and Erica gives Derek’s arm a tight squeeze as she passes by.

          “Glad to see the Big Bad Wolf decided to wake up from his hibernation,” she says.

Derek chuckles.

          “Nice to see you too, Blondie,” Derek says and she flips her hair back with a laugh, making Derek smile.

          “All right, doc. Hit me.” Derek faces Deaton again and crosses his arms.

          “Well, you were dead. I couldn’t find a heartbeat or a pulse, yet you were still breathing. I’ve never seen such a thing. We agreed to bring you back here and see what happened, to let things run their course. If you stopped breathing or began to decompose like a typical dead body, then we’d have had our answer, I suppose,” Deaton explains.

Derek crinkles his nose up at the thought of his body decomposing, and also at the fact that his pack couldn’t just let him go.

          “And then? Where was I? How did I get back?” Derek asks.

          “I think that you got very, very lucky and somebody wanted you saved.”

Deaton looks around the room, but Derek doesn’t get it.

          “Saved? Saved from where? Saved how? Doc, ya gotta give me more here.” Derek waves his arms around.

          “We think you were in hell, Derek,” Deaton says.

Derek’s heart stops.

“Hell? I don’t...I don’t remember,”  Derek whispers.

“That is a very good thing, Derek. There is, however, a possibility you could remember. I just want to prepare you for that,” Deaton says and Derek nods.

“Okay, then who saved me?” Derek looks around the room and everyone’s eyes shoot to the ground. Derek’s heart drops as he whips around to face Stiles. “Stiles, please tell me you didn’t.”

“What else was there to do?!” Stiles cries out, and Derek roars and steps towards him. Deaton and Boyd grab Derek’s arms to hold him back.

“You dumb fool!” Derek yells.

“Me? I’m the dumb fool?! That’s rich, coming from the man so willing to die.” Stiles shouts, standing up.

“Yeah, well I had _reason_. My reasons were good, Stiles!” Derek argues.

“And mine weren’t?” Stiles steps back, offended and hurt. “Derek, you _died_. The love of my life was dead and I couldn’t handle that.”

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice softens at the realization that he really is the dumb fool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

“Didn’t think what, Der? That we’d just let you go? Let you be dead? Or that I’d try and stop it?” Stiles asks and Derek just shakes his head.

“Selling your soul, though?” Derek lets out a soft sob.

“I didn’t sell my soul, you idiot,” Stiles scoffs.

Derek looks up, surprised.  “Then how did you?”

“I guess all I had to do was be very threatening. I tracked down the demon who took your soul to hell with him, reminded him that I had killed all his dogs with my clever magic tricks and _my_ dogs, then I tricked him into a demon trap and bargained his life for yours. Simple.” Stiles brushes his hands together as if to suggest that it was no big deal and he crosses his arms, smiling smugly around the room. Jackson scoffs and Derek rolls his eyes.

“Show off,” Jackson mumbles.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says softly, and the pack looks up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re here now, and we’re intact. We’re okay,” Scott says as he walks over to Derek and claps him on the back.

“I know, I know. But guys,” Derek pauses and lets out a long breath. “When the time comes for me to die, you have to let me die. I was a dead corpse just lying on this bed. Now, I love you, I really do, but I was _dead._ ”

“You were still breathing!” Erica shouts.

“We weren’t about to bury you still breathing,” Lydia adds.

“Unbelievable,” Stiles sighs.

Derek turns to him and raises an eyebrow.

“Do you want to be dead?” Stiles asks, and everyone stills.

“Well, no,” Derek replies.

“Then I don’t see the problem.” Stiles crosses his arms and stares at Derek.

“The problem is that death is a part of life. We all have to accept it. I didn’t want to leave you guys, but I knew you were safe, I knew you could have taken care of each other. You have to try and accept it.”

Derek looks around and sees the pack glancing at each other.

“We don’t have to anymore,” Erica says.

“That’s not the point,” Derek tries to argue again, but Stiles raises his hand to stop him.

“We don’t care what your point is. We don’t have to wonder, we don’t have to say goodbye. We couldn’t— _I_ couldn’t afford to lose another family member.”

Derek can feel the cold tone in Stiles’ voice, dismissive and aggressive.

“Don’t talk to me about losing family members,” Derek says, mimicking Stiles harsh tone.

          Everyone freezes and Derek takes that time to walk over to Deaton to thank him, making it quite clear that he is dismissing everyone from the room. Everyone but Stiles. Derek stops him with a hand on his arm, and Stiles waits.

          “Stiles,” Derek starts, but Stiles rushes at him and slams his lips onto Derek’s. Derek pushes him away and Stiles slaps him. “What the hell, Stiles!”

          “Damn it, Derek, just goddamn it! Can’t you see? Can’t you understand that if it had been me you’d have done anything to bring me back?” Stiles is still shouting, but tears are rapidly falling from his face. He stops and lets himself sob and Derek takes a step forward. He hesitates, but when he’s met with no resistance he closes the distance between them and brings Stiles into a hug.

          “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Derek feels a few tears fall from his own eyes and he squeezes Stiles even tighter.

          They make love slow that night, Stiles coming hard inside Derek. They both cry and kiss each other like the world is ending and, for them, it really is.

          The next day is different. Derek can sense it immediately. He turns over to face Stiles and Stiles is already awake, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. Derek leans over and kisses his shoulder, but he feels Stiles flinch underneath him. Derek feels sick.

          “Stiles?” Derek whispers.

Stiles shakes his head a bit and smiles before turning to face Derek. He leans in, kissing Derek’s forehead.

          “Good morning,” Stiles says cheerfully, but Derek can sense the false cheer. Stiles isn’t happy at all and something is very wrong.

          “What’s the matter? What’s happened?” Derek asks, sitting up quite suddenly and not taking his eyes off of Stiles.

          “Nothing. Stop thinking something’s always wrong.” Stiles rolls his eyes and gets up out of bed.

That’s the last night they ever actually sleep together like lovers. All the times after that are a lie.

***

          **Present day:**

          Derek has been home for three weeks without making one single run for the hills. The pack is proud of him. Derek’s proud of himself. They decide to get Chinese to celebrate. Scott invites Stiles, whose plus one just got into town. Derek doesn’t care. Or he’s pretty sure he doesn’t care. He’ll get through it though; i’;s only dinner. He can handle that.

          Derek pulls into his spot just outside of the building and can already see everyone’s cars pulled into all of the guest spots. He has to pay the landlord a bit extra each month for taking up all of the guest spots after he got a stern, angry lecture about it.

          He can already hear everyone talking upstairs.

          “Stiles is not a morning person,” Allison is explaining.

          “One time we fell asleep doing some research and he slept right on the floor, ass in the air. He didn’t even make it to his bed. When his dad woke us up...shoot, I’ve never seen Stiles hit the ceiling so fast,” Scott is saying and Stiles claps him on the shoulder and laughs with everyone else.

          Derek’s heart beats a little faster. She’s up there. He knows it. From all the nostalgic talk going on it’s not hard to piece together that they’re sharing Stiles’ life story with her. Derek grabs the bags of food from his car and makes his way up to his apartment.

          He makes it to the second flight of stairs before he finally hears her.

          “Thank you so much for inviting me. I’ve been telling Stiles for months that I’ve wanted to come home with him to meet you all. He talks about you constantly.”

          “Well, we’re glad to finally meet you,” Allison says and Derek smiles. She’s trying so hard to make everything happy and right. Derek can hear the strain in her voice, the worry that someone is about to say something mean. That someone primarily being Jackson, but Derek’s been surprised before.

His cell phone starts vibrating and he’s digging in his pocket for it when he hears the girl’s voice again. He feels her heart rate pick up with excitement and suddenly Derek’s heart is racing with anxiety.

“Well, I was hoping we could announce something to all of you. I haven’t been able to tell anyone because Stiles has wanted to wait.”         

“Lucy, no, not now,” Stiles interrupts. Derek hears her giggle and playfully slap Stiles’ arm.

“These are your friends! I’m sure they’re going to be excited to hear this!” Lucy exclaims and Derek can feel Stiles’s nerves as half of the pack tenses up and the other half begins to growl low and deep.

“Lucy, please—” Stiles begins.

“We’re engaged!” Lucy squeals. Derek can hear her giggles and the bags of food in his hands hit the floor just outside the door. He turns to run before anyone can get the chance to open the door and see him. He hears them nonetheless. Scott holding Allison back because she wants to run after him, Jackson calling out his name, and Lydia yelling, “Go get him, get him back!”

Stiles is just asking everyone what’s happened, and Erica very rudely says, “You’re what’s happening, Stiles. You came home when you should’ve just stayed away. Instead of coming back and breaking his heart all over again. I think you and your new fiancée should leave.”

“Was that Derek?” Stiles’ heart is hammering and Derek can hear him rushing to the door.

“Don’t bother. You’re the last person he’d ever wanna see,” Jackson says through grit teeth.

“I didn’t mean—I didn’t want him to find out this way,” Stiles whispers.

“I think everyone’s right, Stiles. You should probably just go for the night.” Scott walks over to him and claps his arm gently.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Lucy admits, and Derek’s in his car but he can feel them the tension escalate.

“Yes, you did.”

It isn’t Jackson who says it, or Lydia, or even Erica. Instead, it’s Isaac jumping to his defense, giving Lucy a piece of his mind. “You knew, because you wanted to make sure _he_ knew Stiles was off limits. You’re a bitch. Don’t bother coming back, you’re not welcome here.”

With that, the pack’s decision is final, and when they make decisions like this there is no changing their minds. Derek turns over his engine and is out of the parking lot before anyone leaves the apartment. He doesn’t want them to follow him so, in order to make sure they don’t, he doesn’t go anywhere they could easily find him. He drives and he keeps driving and he doesn’t look back.

Until the day before Allison's wedding when she calls him, furious.

“You get your ass back to Beacon Hills, Derek. I don’t care where you went or how long it took you to get there. If you’re days away, you leave your car and you get on a goddamn plane. Do not test me. I will find you and drag your werewolf ass back if I have to.”

Derek is holding the phone away from his ear as he sits on a picnic table overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The fog is lifting ever so slightly as the morning wears on into the afternoon.

“I know, Allison, I know. I’ll be there,” Derek sighs. He hears her stop and take a breath.

“Listen, Der, we know how much you’re hurting right now. We know this isn’t easy and we all know how much Stiles is a dick for doing this to you all over again. Scott left with Stiles that night and continued to give him a piece of his mind. He told Stiles everything.”

“What do you mean?” Derek sits up a bit straighter.

“Everything. All our near death experiences, all our victories, our losses, everything. Scott told him he has been selfish these past few years and the things he’s done are unforgivable. He uninvited him from the wedding.”

“Stiles is his best man! He can’t just uninvite him!” Derek yells, because, like always, he feels guilty that Stiles is being treated like this.

“Derek—”

Derek’s heart is beating fast as he whips around to a familiar voice. Stiles is standing there with his red hoodie on, hands in his pockets and looking frozen to the bone. Derek nearly drops his phone.

“Uh, Allison, something’s come up. I gotta go,” Derek says.

“Someone’s with you? Who?” Allison asks and Derek smiles at how easily she picks up the code.

“Yes. Guess,” he says simply.

“Stiles.”

She sighs and Derek hangs up in response.

“You always wanted to come here. I remember you saying that if you ever wanted to get away from the pack outside of Beacon Hills, you’d just drive here. I figured this was a good place to start,” Stiles says, looking at the ground as he kicks at the dirt around his feet.

“Why are you here, Stiles?” Derek asks. He’s trying to sound angry, like he doesn’t care. He has no idea if it’s working.

“I needed to talk to you about the other day...and about so many things,” Stiles whispers.

“Well, here I am. So talk.”

Derek pats the side of the table in invitation and Stiles takes it. Their legs rest next to each other.

“I’ve been a dick,” Stiles starts, and Derek scoffs and nods.

“You can say that again.”

          “I’ve been a dick,” Stiles says.

Derek laughs, which makes Stiles smile. He gently bumps Derek’s knee with his own. They are silent for awhile. A horn blows somewhere from within the slowly lifting fog. Seagulls flutter nearby. Derek hears Stiles’ heartbeat. It beats slow, then rapid, then slow again. He can tell Stiles is thinking, trying to find the words to say what he needs to. Finally, he speaks.

          “You were right, you know,” Stiles begins. “That night. I was scared and I was pushing you away. I was pushing everyone away.”

Derek doesn’t have to ask which night, and he doesn’t have to ask what the hell Stiles is going on about, because he knows. He nods for Stiles to continue.

“I just...I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt like I was drowning, Derek. All the panic attacks, all the nightmares, all the near death experiences—and not just my own, but the pack’s as well. I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

          “So you left?” Derek asks quietly, and Stiles looks up with tears in his eyes, a pleading look on his face. Stiles is silently asking Derek to _please, just understand and listen_ , but Derek already is.

          “I didn’t know what else to do, Derek. It felt like the best option. After that night, after what happened to you, it felt too similar to...to my mom. And I realized then and there that I couldn’t go through that again.” Stiles sniffles and looks at his hands, fiddling with them.

          “We’re family.” Derek can’t think of what else to say.

Stiles stands and runs his hands through his hair, letting out a sound that’s a mix between a sob and an exasperated sigh.

          “That’s the thing though, Derek. I wasn’t used to family. It was just me and my dad, always, and I took care of him. And, for once, I just wanted a break. I was tired of taking care of people, but then this _pack_ came along and there I was again, taking care of people.” Stiles begins to pace. “I know I’m a terrible person for thinking this. I just, I didn’t know how to handle a bigger family than the one I had.”

          Derek nods and tries to think of a way to fix this. “You had nightmares? And panic attacks? More than what we saw?”

          Stiles stops dead in his tracks and stands quietly for a moment before nodding.

          “You should’ve told us,” Derek tells him. “I get that you didn’t want to take care of people anymore, Stiles. I get that. You deserved a break, but you also deserved to have us care of you. You just needed to let us in. God, Stiles that is what a family is! I, of all people, shouldn’t know how a family works, but I still remember a thing or two. And it was hard as hell to let this pack of misfits into my life, to let them change me, to let them take care of me. But here we are now yeah? Stiles, we were here for you. We still are.” Derek stands up and walks towards him. He so desperately wants to take Stiles into his arms and kiss him right here and now, but he holds back and waits.

          “Am I? Because these past few weeks have been torture. I don’t feel welcome at all.” Stiles turns to face Derek.

          “They’re angry and hurt, Stiles. That’s all. They love you and they missed you. They’re acting out because they’re kids who don’t know how else to show you how they feel.”

Stiles huffs out a laugh and then grows somber again as he starts to cry. _To hell with it_ , Derek thinks, and this time he does reach out and pull Stiles into a hug. The warm tears soak his shirt immediately.

          “I did listen to a voicemail, about Lydia, and I just erased it and forgot. Because I wanted to forget.” Stiles continues to sob, and every word is muffled through Derek’s shirt, but his sharp hearing keeps him from having to ask Stiles to repeat himself.

“That first year,” Stiles murmurs, “when we kept it touch...it was worse than being home. My panic attacks were at an all-time high, and I realized it was because I was so far away. I was still in contact with you guys, but I couldn’t do anything to help any of you. So I thought if I cut off all contact that would help. And it did, Derek. I’m so sorry, but it felt so nice to breathe for once.”

          Derek nods in understanding while Stiles continues to sob.

          “Shh, it’s okay. I know, Stiles. It’s all okay,” Derek whispers, as he rubs Stiles’ back to comfort him. Stiles pulls away and looks up at Derek in disbelief.

          “All these years. All these years, Derek, and you still love me,” Stiles says, shaking his head.

          “We talked about this, Stiles, a long time ago. It’s different for werewolves,” Derek says, staring at the ground in discomfort.

          “I know, I know,” Stiles whispers. “I just figured, after all of the horrible shit I’ve done, that I _still_ seem to keep doing to you...”

          “There’s no off switch just because you broke my heart. I will always love you.”

Derek feels stupid for saying it, and his face feels like it’s on fire. The cool touch of Stiles’ hand on his cheek calms him down a little. Derek looks up from the ground and finds himself staring into Stiles’ eyes. Derek doesn’t want to let go, but he knows he has to. So he backs away from him and Stiles stares at him in confusion as his hand drops to his side.

          “Derek, I thought...” Stiles pauses and his face is now a mask of hurt and rejection.

          “You’re engaged, Stiles. You have a girlfriend. I’m not about get involved in that, let alone ruin anything.”

          Stiles laughs. Stiles is laughing loudly, in a way that’s sarcastic and pissed off. Derek is really confused. He raises an eyebrow at Stiles and Stiles just throws his hands up in the air and laughs some more.

          “For a man who loves me, you sure do know how to woo a guy,” Stiles begins and Derek feels like this is a trap and a fight waiting to happen.

          “I don’t know what you want me to do here, Stiles. Woo you? Walk away? Love you? What do you want from me? For once, instead of thinking I’ll understand, because I guess I never seem to, just tell me what you want. I would give you anything.”

Derek rubs the back of his neck. He’s trying to read Stiles’ face, read his mind, find anything that would give him a hint as to what he should do, when it hits him.

          _I wanted you to live for me._

          Derek knows. Suddenly it all makes sense and he shoots forward. His hands land on either side of Stiles’ face as he brings their lips together. Derek can swear, as lame as it sounds, that he can feel the universe clicking back into place. He’s just been free floating into space, off track, falling into the abyss. But now, here, kissing Stiles...it’s perfect. It’s right. It’s everything. He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes to find Stiles’ eyes still closed. His lips still parted, his face relaxed, and he’s wearing a breathtaking, happy look. Derek smiles down at him.

          “Don’t marry her,” Derek whispers, and Stiles’ eyes shoot open.

          “I know.” Stiles nods, and Derek tilts his head in confusion.

“It came down to an ultimatum a few months ago,” Stiles explains. “She wanted progress, and it was either marry her or break it off. She was all I had back then. I panicked and didn’t want to be alone.”

          “So don’t be alone. Come home,” Derek says softly, caressing Stiles’ cheek. Stiles’ eyes close against the feeling and he nods.

          “That’s all I wanted to do. The second I left, I wanted to turn my Jeep around and come home. But I thought...I thought I was doing the right thing. I’ve realized now that the reason my panic attacks got worse when I left was because I was never supposed to leave.”

Stiles’ voice breaks and Derek stops him with a kiss. Derek’s hands find their way into Stiles’ hair and he tugs at it, dragging Stiles’ mouth deeper into his, tongue searching frantically for Stiles’ taste. They part, breathless, and Stiles’ cheeks are flushed pink. Derek had forgotten how much he loves that look on him.

          “You were my pack,” Stiles tries to begin again. “They’re my family. I should never have left. If I could go back—”

          “But we can’t. We can only go forward and fix this,” Derek says. He shakes Stiles a bit, trying to get him to ignore the thoughts that are forming in his mind. “Let’s go fix this.”

          Stiles looks at him and he smiles through watery eyes, leaning up to kiss Derek’s lips softly.

          “There’s a lot to fix. The pack...they hate me. And Lucy, she’s definitely going to hate me,” Stiles says, taking Derek’s hand as they walk back to their cars.

          “So we’ll deal with it. The pack will come around. And Lucy? Well, I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say about that, seeing as I kind of don’t care if she ever talks to you again afterwards. I’d prefer she didn’t.”

Derek smiles over at Stiles when he hears him laugh, and Derek’s heart is racing at the sound. He’s missed that sound. And he’s pretty sure that they just agreed that Derek gets it back now. Permanently. Forever, he’s pretty sure.

He hopes so, because he’s never letting Stiles go again.

          “I’m never leaving again,” Stiles assures him, as if he’s able to tell what Derek is thinking. When Derek looks into Stiles’ eyes, he knows it’s because Stiles can. Even after all these years, Stiles still loves him, too. Derek nods and clears his throat to stop himself from crying.

          They against his Camaro like teenagers for a few more minutes, although it could’ve been an hour with all the breaks they took in between for laughing and a bit of small talk. Derek squeezes Stiles’ hand as a signal that it’s time for them to go. He backs away from Stiles, walking towards his car. He’d much rather stay here with Stiles and never have to go back to the problems that they will face back in Beacon Hills. He promised Stiles though. They have to face it, they have to fix things, and they are going to do it together.

          “Ready?” Derek asks.

          “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Stiles shrugs his shoulders and pulls his keys out of his pocket, walking towards his Jeep.

          “I still can’t believe you drive that hunk of junk around,” Derek calls after him.

          “Not a word, Hale. Don’t you dare trash my baby. She’s lasted this long hasn’t she? She’s never gonna die!” Stiles shouts, throwing his fist up into the air.

          Derek finds him on the side of the road about an hour from Beacon Hills, slamming his fists against the hood of his car. Derek pulls over and raises his eyebrow at him. Stiles huffs as he walks over and pulls open the car door.

          “Not a word,” Stiles says through tight lips, despite the curve of a smile. Derek laughs and pulls away once Stiles is settled inside. When they reach the “WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS: A BEACON OF LIGHT OF AMERICA” sign, he reaches over and intertwines their fingers. Stiles squeezes his hand lightly and his words from earlier ring in Derek’s mind.

_I’m not leaving again._

          Derek can’t remember ever being happier.

 

***

          The wedding is perfect, of course. Lydia was right, as usual. The white rose petals trail down the aisle, and if Derek’s being totally honest he doesn’t even hate the doves that are released right before the wedding, representing love and peace or whatever.

          The evergreen trees surrounding them give the place a homey, comfortable smell. The patrons are relaxed and happy, smiling. Some are already dabbing their eyes with the custom handkerchiefs Lydia handed out before the wedding. Derek rolls his eyes.

          He high fives the flower girl as she passes and gives her a small wink and a thumbs up. Then the music begin to play softly, and Derek is suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. He begins to fidget and shake out his hands, silently begging them not to start sweating.

          “Not too late to back out,” His best man leans in and whispers in his ear.

          “Shut up, Jackson, or I swear—” Derek whispers fiercely.

Jackson laughs and slaps his shoulder. “Relax dude, I’m kidding. I’m trying to calm you down. You don’t need to be nervous. The love of your life is waiting to spend the rest of his life with you. God help him,” Jackson jokes again and Derek elbows him in the ribs. Isaac, Boyd, and Scott all roll their eyes.

          “You’re stuck with me too, yOU know, _for life_ , just not in the same way. Thank god.” Jackson slaps the back of his head and Derek laughs. They’re scolded then, by a very pissed and pregnant Lydia glaring at them from across the aisle. They cut the shit immediately.

          Derek is staring at the ground, avoiding Lydia’s gaze altogether and trying to stay calm. He’s still fidgeting with his hands when two others fold themselves on top of his, ceasing his nerves. He looks up, startled and amazed.

          “Hi,” Stiles whispers, and his smile is dazzling in the fading sun. His eyes are twinkling and it takes Derek’s breath away, no matter how many times he wakes up to them, or watches them close as he slowly falls asleep.

          “Hi,” Derek whispers back.

          “I’ve missed you. I can’t believe Lydia made me spend the night away from you and kept me in the back room until just now. I’m not a damn bride,” Stiles jokes. Everyone laughs and Lydia slaps him in the ribs. Stiles winces and pulls a hand away from Derek’s to pat his wound.

          “Ladies, gentleman...we are ladies and gentlemen, aren’t we?” The Sheriff asks, getting up from his seat in the front row.

          “Yes, Mr. Stinlinksi,” everyone says in unison. Derek and Stiles stare at each other, trying not to giggle like crazy.

          “Sorry, Lyds. You know I love you.” Stiles turns around and kisses her cheek. Lydia huffs, but smiles nonetheless, and accepts the apology.

          “Can’t be mad at the bride forever, I suppose,” Derek says and Stiles turns around with his jaw dropped open. Derek can hear the sheriff hiding his laugh and Derek only beams brighter.

          “I hate you,” Stiles whispers.

          “I love you, too.”

Derek winks. Stiles makes a face at him as the pastor enters the room. The pastor brings his hand up to silence the room and everyone grows silent and waits.

          “We welcome all those who have gathered here to share in the marriage of this man and this man,” the pastor begins.

          A little while later, Derek is whispering a soft, “I do,” through his tears, leaning back to grab the ring from Jackson. To Derek’s surprise, Jackson is also quietly crying, and he smiles as he claps his hand on Derek’s back.

          “You may now kiss your groom,” the pastor says, and Derek wastes no time in doing so.

The guests laugh as Derek pulls Stiles into a big kiss and dips him in front of them. Everyone claps and cheers, and Stiles’ cheeks are flushed pink like they always are when Stiles is utterly happy and has just had his breath taken away. It pleases Derek to know he can do that to Stiles. They run down the aisle and out the door together as they are showered with rice and confetti. They hop into the limo and then finally get a minute to themselves. Derek lets out a deep sigh of relief, and Stiles nods in agreement.

          “Tell me about it. Lydia out did herself,” Stiles says.

          “But I sort of loved it.” Derek beams. Stiles gives him a quizzical look. “What?”

          “Lydia would have a field day if she heard you say that,” Stiles says as he pulls out his phone. Derek lunges for it and tosses it across the seat.

          “Which is why she will never know,” Derek says, pulling Stiles down into a kiss. They fall onto the floor in a heap and begin to laugh like giddy school children. “I love you so much.”

          “I love you, too, ya big sap.”

Stiles leans down and rubs his nose against Derek’s, and then nuzzles his face down into Derek’s neck. The limo comes to a stop all too soon and he knows they’ve reached the reception hall. Derek would much rather skip this entire process and get straight to the honeymoon. Stiles looks at him with the same idea, but then the driver calls to them.

          “We’re here Mr. and Mr. Hale.”

          Derek’s heart races, and he can feel Stiles’ do the same. _Hale_. _Mine. Forever._ That’s all Derek can think or care about and suddenly he’s dying to get into that reception hall and show everyone just how lucky he is. Stiles untangles himself and they get out of the car just as the next few limos pull up behind them. Derek turns as he hears a soft pitter patter of feet running up behind him.

          “Uncle Derek! Uncle Derek! How’d I do?!” the little girl yells as she jumps into Derek’s waiting arms.

          “Well, Miss Lily McCall, you were the most perfect flower girl in the whole world. Nobody could’ve done it better. Too bad Uncle Stiles couldn’t have seen it,” Derek says.

          “I would’ve loved to, but _somebody_ had me locked in a broom closet,” Stiles huffs and Lily giggles behind her hand.

          “Oh, stop being such a diva, it was not a broom closet. It was a regular room and you know the wedding rules. You can’t see each other until right before the wedding!” Lydia grabs ahold of Jackson’s hand as she steps out of the next limo. Jackson eyes Stiles, trying to get Stiles to drop the subject. Stiles puts his hands up in surrender.

          “Fine, fine. You’re right. But really though, thank you, Lyds. It was perfect,” Stiles says and walks over to kiss her cheek. She hums happily.

          “Just wait until we get inside! We’re not done yet!” Lydia picks up her pace and is suddenly ahead of them all, excited to get inside. The rest of them lag behind to give themselves time to prepare.

          “Great, is it gonna be overkill? It’s overkill, isn’t it?” Stiles looks to Allison and she only smiles and shrugs.

          “It’s actually kinda perfect, I’m not gonna lie. Lydia doesn’t halfass anything. You know that.”

          “Okay, okay, you’re right, it’ll be fine.” Stiles turns around and takes a deep breath. Lily takes this as her cue to tap Stiles on the shoulder and put her arms out for him to take her from Derek.

          “It’s okay, Uncle Stiles. Auntie Lydia did a great job, really. She’s perfect,” Lily says, making everyone laugh.

          “And how much did Auntie Lydia pay you to say that, I wonder?” Jackson asks, smiling as he rolls his eyes.

          “Five dollars,” Lily says, not getting the joke. “She said she’d give me a dollar but I told her _as if_.”

          “That’s my girl!” Scott laughs, high-fiving his daughter.

          They’re all still standing around outside when Lydia pops her head out and stares at them.

          “Well? Get a move on! They’re ready to introduce the newlyweds!” Lydia shouts with glee and disappears again.

          The pack pats their arms reassuringly as they head inside and leave Derek and Stiles to wait for their introduction to be called.

          Stiles takes Derek’s hand. Derek looks over at him and leans in to rest his head on Stiles’ shoulder.

          “It will probably be the most perfect thing we’ve ever seen in our lives, but I swear if their are doves flying around in this place and they shit on my suit...” Derek jokes and Stiles laughs and kisses the top of Derek’s head.

          “I’d be lost without you, please know that,” Stiles whispers and Derek looks at him and nods.

          “You know I would be, too. I love you, Stiles,” Derek whispers.

They have spent the past four years making up for lost time, forgiving each other, and falling in love with each other all over again, but sometimes Derek knows Stiles still beats himself up for those five years he wasted. Derek swears he’ll make Stiles stop one day, but until then all he can do is reassure him with kisses, which is exactly what he does. It is gentle and soft; he parts Stiles’ lips with the tip of his tongue and licks at Stiles’ bottom lip. He cups Stiles’ cheek and deepens the kiss, exploring Stiles’ mouth with fever and intent. He is intent on taking away all of the guilt Stiles feels, but he can’t take it all away in a day, not when Stiles thinks he has five years of guilt to make up for. Stiles stops him with a hand on his chest.

          “Derek, if you don’t stop now I will have no choice but to push you back into that limo and ditch this whole thing so I can back to the hotel and fuck you senseless.”

Derek moans at the thought and looks at the limo longingly. Stiles slaps him playfully.

“Lydia would _kill_ us.”

          “More like dismantle and destroy.”

Derek nods. “Hmph, fine, lets get this over with. But you better hold onto that thought.”

          “Promise,” Stiles laughs and leans up to kiss Derek’s cheek.

They open the doors and go inside. Derek can hear inside the room and the crowd is a buzz of chatter and giggles and clinks of champagne glasses and music. Suddenly, everything goes quiet as he hears the DJ tap his microphone.

          “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Hale!”

          Stiles squeezes Derek's hand and Derek squeezes back as they enter the room. Lydia was right. Again. Everything is perfect. _Everything_. Derek doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He looks around the room and finds his pack waiting for them at the front table. Erica, Allison, and Lydia are dabbing at their eyes. Isaac, Boyd, and Scott are clapping and smiling at them. Jackson has Lily on his hip and they’re shouting and whooping and laughing.

This is Derek’s family. They are all intact and perfect. He steals a glance at Stiles then, only to see that Stiles is staring at them, too. When Stiles looks back at him, he is beaming and tears are running down his face.

          “Let’s go see our family,” Derek whispers and Stiles nods happily.

 


End file.
